


Not a Damsel in Distress

by ideaoforder



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anko and Iruka are Angry Spiritual Siblings, BAMF Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Iruka Teaches, Kakashi is Schooled, M/M, Protective Hatake Kakashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideaoforder/pseuds/ideaoforder
Summary: Iruka has had just about enough of Kakashi stepping in and "saving him," so he pulls out a kunai and saves Kakashi right back. After all, teaching a lesson is what he does best.





	Not a Damsel in Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Specs2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Specs2/gifts).



> For Specs2. You’re awesome. You write such lovely, well thought out comments, and you push me to consider other viewpoints. You deserve only the very best as a thank you, but I hope this will do.
> 
> For his/her gift fic, Specs2 requested Iruka standing up and kicking ass on his own, since one of the favored tropes in the fandom (of which I am guilty of perpetuating, because dammit, it’s delicious) is Protective!Kakashi swooping in and saving the day. I was thrilled to write it, but I wasn’t sure what direction I could take without it being too cliche. Then I was watching Brooklyn 99 last night and saw an episode with the Vulture and the beautiful Writer’s Lightbulb went off. (For those of you who are, as Gai would say, so unhip as to not know about the Vulture, the premise is that the police squad will have done everything in a case except making the final arrest, only for the Vulture from the Major Crimes Unit to swoop in, make the arrest, and get all the credit.) We all know how amazing and kick ass our boy Iruka is, so I can imagine him being frustrated at Kakashi always jumping in to save his bacon. 
> 
> Let’s explore that.

Anko and Iruka had met on their very first day of school at the Academy. A second year student, sensing fresh meat, had knocked Anko down in the schoolyard for sticking her tongue out at him. The blow was just hard enough that it knocked the wind out of her and bloodied her nose and she couldn’t get up immediately. She subsequently watched dizzily from the ground as Iruka, who had never seen Anko before in his entire life, proceed to kick the absolute crap out of the bigger kid in vengeance. 

 

Obviously, the second year hadn’t known that Iruka was a friend of the Sarutobi family, and had been receiving regular training sessions with Asuma for the past three years. A second year didn’t mean much to a kid that regularly sparred with the genin-almost-chuunin son of the Hokage. Iruka had watched the crying boy run off with great satisfaction, then leaned down, offered his hand to Anko, and took her to the infirmary to get patched up. A lifelong friendship built on mutual respect and bloodshed was formed that day, and Anko and Iruka had been all but inseparable ever since.

 

While Iruka adored Anko and would give his life for hers without hesitation, right now all he could do was imagine how she’d look with his hands around her throat. She could be difficult at the best of times, but in general her more annoying tendencies were offset by her humor, her warmth, and the candy that was always hidden in her trench coat pockets. 

 

This was not that day. There was no candy on earth that could make up for how all out annoying Anko was being. And she was doing it  _ on purpose. _

 

“Anko!” Iruka shouted, finally pushed beyond all endurance. “I am truly sorry that you are being made to work at the Mission Desk. I know you don’t like people, and I’m well aware that you like paperwork even less. I’m pretty sure even the dead Hokages know of your feelings by now. Nevertheless, you are a jounin and you are required to serve this village occasionally in ways other than assassination!”

 

Anko pouted as she balanced on one hand upside down on Iruka’s desk. “Assassinations are much less painful that working here, Iruka-kun,” she said petulantly.  Her trench coat was flapping around her ears and her skirt...well, it wasn’t doing very much to hide anything at all. Anko wasn’t exactly shy of her body, though, so she wasn’t motivated to turn right side up again. Iruka had seen it too much to be bothered, but there were children in the room! Okay, they were genin, but Iruka still saw them as children even if no one else did. “How can you stand the monotony?” she moaned. “The degradation? The  _ papercuts?” _

 

“I stand it because it’s my duty. Now get off my desk and get to work!” he ordered, repressing the urge to knock her over for the hundredth time that hour and undoubtedly setting himself up for a future ulcer. “There’s a line going out the door! We’ll be here all night if you don’t get going.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Anko flipped upright again and flounced over to her desk, making sure every movement was as dramatic as possible. Iruka sighed and motioned for the next shinobi in line to approach him. “I apologize for the delay, Hana-san,” he murmured politely to the Inuzuka vet as he held out his hand for her mission report. “We seem to be having personnel problems.”

 

Hana snorted. “Don’t worry about it, Iruka-sensei. I know an untrainable dog when I see one,” she said, jutting her chin at Anko.

 

“I’m pretty sure you just called me a bitch,” mused Anko idly, “but it’s true, so I’ll allow it.”

 

Iruka ignored her and finished checking Hana’s report, which was perfect. “Thank you for your hard work, on both your mission and your report,” he congratulated while he stamped the paperwork as being eligible for payment. “Tell Kiba-kun hello for me, please.”

 

Hana promised she would and left, although she watched Anko carefully just in case there was some form of delayed retaliation coming her way. A jounin that Iruka wasn’t familiar with stepped woodenly up to Iruka’s desk and handed over a report without a word. 

 

“Hello, jounin-san,” Iruka greeted warmly, “and welcome back. I trust your mission was successful?”

 

“Yes,” the jounin replied. “I must see the Hokage.”

 

Iruka glanced over the report. “This mission is only B rank. I assure you that I can process everything for you without us having to bother the Hokage. Is there anything you need to add to your report?”

 

“I need to see the Hokage,” the jounin repeated. “Bring her here.”

 

“Again, jounin-san, the Hokage doesn’t need to come to the Mission Desk just to review your report,” Iruka said impatiently. “If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll get you your payment and you can be on your way.”

 

Anko frowned as she glanced over from her own desk. “Hey, man, what gives? Just take your money and go, the Hokage doesn’t have time for you today.”

 

“I need to see the Hokage,” he said again, in just as even a tone. The jounin, staring blankly at the wall, suddenly pulled his katana from the holster on his back and held it up to Iruka’s throat. “I need to see the Hokage.”

 

Before he had finished speaking, Iruka had already pulled his kunai from his pouch and Anko was standing up to help him. At that very moment, Hatake Kakashi appeared out of literally nowhere, batted the katana away, and had the jounin prostrate on the ground, his hands bound behind his back. “Problems, Iruka-sensei?” he asked cheerily. 

 

“There’s something wrong with him,” Anko observed as she moved to help Kakashi.

 

Iruka set down his kunai and hurriedly read through the jounin’s mission report. “He’s been in Earth on a solo mission. That explains it. He was vulnerable.” He raised his hands to form the rat seal and said, “Kai!” in a firm voice while disrupting the jounin’s chakra flow.

 

The struggling jounin on the floor immediately went limp. “Wait, what happened?” he asked weakly, his voice no longer flat. “Am I back in Konoha? Ow, my arms hurt!”

 

Kakashi helped the jounin stand up. “Maa, it looks like you got hit by a genjutsu in Earth. Sorry about the arms, I was more concerned about the katana at the sensei’s throat. C’mon, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out. Looks like the Hokage won’t be murdered today after all.” He picked up the katana and pulled the jounin’s arm over his shoulder to help him walk. Before he left, Kakashi turned to look at Iruka. “Good thing I was here today, huh, sensei?” 

 

“I could have handled it,” Iruka sputtered. “Your assistance wasn’t necessary!”

 

“Sure, of course it wasn’t,” Kakashi said equably. Then he had the audacity to wink as he escorted the stumbling jounin from the room.

 

Iruka whirled on Anko, so angry he could hardly speak. “The arrogance!” he finally spat. “Who does he think he is? Just...just jumping in like that! What does he think I am, a damsel in distress?”

 

Anko shrugged. “That’s Kakashi for you. I think beating people up in a vaguely protective manner makes him feel better about himself. Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’m traumatized from that horrible display of violence. I’m positively sickened. Can I be excused?”

 

“No!” Iruka screeched. “Just for that, I’m taking all your candy as a tax for being annoying!” He plunged his hand into Anko’s coat pocket, and yanked it out expecting to be holding the usual chocolates. 

 

It wasn’t chocolates. It was snakes. 

 

He screamed and threw the snakes in Anko’s face before stomping out of the room, the sounds of his swearing following behind him like a mist. Several genin looked as if they were taking notes on this fascinating new vocabulary.

 

“To be fair,” Anko said reasonably to the room at large, “he should have been expecting that.” She cuddled the snakes up to her face while making a kissy face, then slipped the reptiles back into her pocket. She sat down at her desk again and picked up her abandoned pencil. “Next!”

 

The young chunin in front of her desk swallowed hard, eyeing Anko’s writhing coat pocket nervously. “Um,” he quivered, “if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll just wait for the other guy to come back.”

 

……………….

 

It was Friday. Most people dreaded Mondays as a rule, but Iruka had found that it was the opposite for teachers. He was just as eager as anyone else for the weekend, but then, so were the thirty pre-genin that he was currently turning into mini-murderers. And they were all mini-murderers that had to be taught how to throw shuriken. This was always a dangerous task no matter the day, but it was even worse on Fridays when they were impatient and distracted, and it was worst of all right after lunch when they were high on sugary snacks and sodas. 

 

Iruka tried his best to avoid this particular deadly combination, but it had been a hectic week and he hadn’t had for weapons training yet. There was no help for it. When he wearily told the children to gather their shuriken and go outside for target practice, they all cheered and raced out, bottlenecking at the door in their eagerness. Iruka shuddered. Why did they have to be so enthusiastic about pointy things? What had he ever done in a past life that was bad enough to deserve this?

 

He was right in the middle of instructing Udon in the proper throwing stance when his teacher radar went off. There seemed to be a fight brewing at the back of the line. He tossed a handkerchief at the perpetually snotty Udon and zoomed to where the ruckus was coming from, only to find Hanabi and Moegi building quickly to a knock-down, drag out fight.

 

“You stepped on my foot! Why are you always so pushy?” Moegi screeched, her face matching her orange hair perfectly.

 

Hanabi proved Megi right by shoving her face into her opponents’, uncaring of the potential for spittle. “I didn’t step on your foot, and if I had, it wouldn’t have been my fault!” she screamed back. “You have canoes for feet! It’s impossible not to trip over them!” 

 

“I thought you had special eyes,” Moegi sneered. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going? Or do you think you’re so special that we should just all move out of your way wherever you go, Hyuuga Princess?”

 

Hanabi looked as if she had been pushed beyond all forbearance. “Boat feet!” she shrieked. “You could sail away on them!”

 

“Ghost eyes!” “Boat feet!” “Ghost eyes!” “Boat feet!”

 

“Girls!” Iruka shouted, putting a hand on each of their elbows. “Are you really fighting over a stepped on foot?”

 

“She started it!” both girls shrilled.

 

“I don’t care who started it,” their sensei growled, “I’m finishing it!” At that moment, Iruka heard the most dreaded words in the entire teacher vocabulary: “Hey, watch this!” 

 

He turned and saw Konohamaru winding up to throw a shuriken behind his back with his eyes closed. When his arm was high, he released too soon with a squealed, “Whoops!” The shuriken spun through the air, headed directly for Akemi, who had been standing off to the side watching Moegi and Hanabi’s fight with great relish. Iruka leapt in front of Akemi, preparing to take the shuriken in her place. It would hurt a little, but it was better for him to be injured than for a student that wasn’t wearing armor to take the hit. 

 

Then somebody jumped in front of him, and the shuriken had been smoothly deflected with a kunai. Kakashi turned around and eye-smiled at Iruka. “Hello, Iruka-sensei,” he purred. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

 

“I agree!” Iruka snapped. “So stop treating me like I’m incompetent! I was wearing a vest, you dobe, a shuriken would barely puncture the skin through that!”

 

“Maa, I know that,” Kakashi said. “I was merely demonstrating the body flicker technique to your students. You’re welcome for the save.”

 

Iruka stomped past Kakashi and grabbed Konohamaru by the ear. “If you really want to be helpful to my students, you’ll watch them while I take the Honorable Grandson here to the principal's office.” He marched a whining Konohamaru away while saying angrily, “How many times have I told you to look where you’re throwing sharp things? And how many times have I told you not to show off?”

 

Hanabi walked up and tugged on the bottom of Kakashi’s jacket. “Excuse me, Kakashi-sensei, but aren’t you supposed to be teaching us? Do you have any good advice?”

 

“Err,” Kakashi said to his rapt student audience before adding weakly, “stay in school?”

 

When Iruka got back to the schoolyard with a chastened Konohamaru trailing along in his wake, it was only to find that Kakashi had gotten away while the getting was good. In his place was a sullen Pakkun, who seemed to be forcing the children to play fetch with a tanto. 

 

“What?” the pug said to a furious Iruka. “The boss said it was good exercise.”

 

………………..

 

There were times when Iruka wondered if being a cat owner was really worth it after all the aggravation. This was one of those times. Kasi had darted out the back door for the umpteenth time and was playing a cheerful game of keep away while Iruka slowly lost his mind.

 

“Fine!” he shouted at the fleeing feline after running around like a decapitated chicken for at least five minutes. “See if anybody else feeds you fish and scratches that spot right above your tail! If you leave now, don’t bother coming back!”

 

The cat, as if she understood, immediately turned and ran back towards Iruka. Iruka leaned down, ready to swipe her by the back of her neck, when she changed course at the last possible second and ran up to the top branches of a tall sakura tree.

 

“Curse you and your soft fur!” Iruka shrieked. “Your fuzzy feet aren’t worth this!” Then, realizing that his neighbors were watching (and openly laughing at him), he sighed and prepared to chakra walk up the tree. At least Kasi didn’t have anywhere else she could run to from there. It was almost over.

 

Before he could take the first step, a gloved hand was depositing a suddenly docile Kasi into Iruka’s arms. “That’s a D-rank, right?” Kakashi chirped. “No payment is necessary. It was a pleasure to rescue your cat. Happy to be of service.” Then he walked away, whistling cheerfully, while Iruka was still gaping in shock.

 

“I’m a shinobi too, you know!” Iruka finally managed to yell at the jounin’s back. “I didn’t need your help!” He glared down at the purring cat. “This is all your fault,” he muttered viciously. Kasi looked utterly unconcerned. 

 

Maybe it was time to become a dog person.

 

…………………...

 

After Orochimaru had snuck into Konoha during the previous chunin exams, it had become a regular order for the village walls to be guarded at all times. Every active shinobi, not just the usual guards, had to take shifts on the wall. Iruka never minded taking his turn; it gave him a chance to be outside for a change, plus it also let him see some shinobi that he usually wouldn’t cross paths with much, like Izumo and Kotetsu. He liked it best of all when Asuma or Anko were on duty with him, and they could chat as they swept the village and the forest with their eyes. It wasn’t a bad gig, considering.

 

Tonight, though, was the rare exception. It was smack in the middle of winter, snow was blowing so hard that Iruka’s eyes were sore and red, and it was very late. Dawn was still at least two hours away, and he had been up for almost twenty-four straight hours. He was tired, frozen, and in dire need of some caffeine. Unfortunately, his thermos of green tea had already been donated to Genma, who was in even worse shape than Iruka. The tokubetsu jounin was still recovering from a nasty case of chakra depletion, but he was healed enough to be eligible for guard duty. He had looked half-dead, so Iruka had handed over his tea without comment.

 

Iruka shrugged off his discomfort and stamped his feet to hopefully restore the circulation in his toes. All things considered, this wasn’t so bad, comparatively. He hadn’t become a shinobi to live a life of ease, safe and warm in an armchair. He wasn’t in enemy territory. Nobody was threatening his life. As far as he knew, Naruto was safe with Jiraiya. A little physical hardship wasn’t going to kill him. He hoped.

 

“Brr,” came a voice from behind him, and Iruka swiftly turned around, a kunai ready in his hand. “It’s cold enough to stop a genjutsu!” Kakashi’s face was even less visible than usual, covered as it was in a green scarf with little shurikens woven into it. 

 

“Hatake,” Iruka greeted through chattering teeth, trying so hard to maintain his dignity. “What are you doing here? You’re not scheduled to be on shift tonight.”

 

“You’re right, I’m not,” Kakashi said. “I just got back from a mission. I saw you from the Tower and thought I’d come by to say hello, maybe save your life again if the opportunity presented itself. I keep thinking that you’ll be grateful one day, and you always disappoint me.”

 

Iruka blinked, which caused a shower of little ice crystals to fall from his eyelashes onto his cheeks. “That’s because you’re not saving my life,” he said, his voice as icy as the wind. “You’re butting in where you aren’t wanted or needed. You may not respect chunin, but we’re the backbone of this village’s fighting force. We’re deserving of respect, even from exalted jounin such as yourself.”

 

“I  _ do  _ respect you,” Kakashi said, looking surprised. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.” 

 

The honesty in his voice snapped Iruka out of his pique. “That’s nice of you, I suppose,” he said slowly, “but it hurts me more to think that you don’t see me as being capable of handling dicey situations.”

 

“I think you’re plenty capable,” Kakashi replied, “I just think sometimes I’m better prepared. Such as now, for example.” He reached over his shoulder into his traveling pack and drew out a green thermos, nearly identical to the one that Iruka had handed to Genma. “I happen to have here a thermos full of hot, steaming, gloriously caffeinated coffee, such as would be appreciated by a tired ninja stuck on guard duty. I was on my home and was just going to dump it out in the sink, but I think it would be put to better use here. What do you think?”

 

Iruka gazed at the green thermos lustfully. He could almost taste the bitter brew sliding across his tongue and down his throat, waking him up and warming him from the inside. “I don’t need that,” he said stubbornly.

 

“Of course not,” Kakashi said. 

 

“I don’t need anything. I can take care of myself,” Iruka added, albeit more weakly.

 

Kakashi nodded. “I absolutely agree. You are a fully capable, independent, trustworthy shinobi. In that case, I’ll just leave the thermos here. Somebody else might want it, after all.” He set the thermos down, waved at Iruka cheerfully, and turned to leave.

 

Iruka forced himself to wait two minutes, long enough for Kakashi to hopefully be out of sight. Then he dove ungracefully onto the thermos, unscrewed it, and gulped down at least half of the liquid in three huge swallows. It burned his tongue, but it was so worth it. He sighed in deep satisfaction as he felt the caffeine hitting his bloodstream, his stomach warming the rest of his body.

 

He screamed when Kakashi popped up beside him. “Saved you again,” the jounin said smugly, before disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

 

Iruka growled and made a rude gesture at the space where Kakashi had been standing before tucking the thermos down his jacket and resuming his watch. The jounin was a jerk, but he did make some damn good coffee.

 

………………....

 

“Excuse me,” Iruka said as he poked his head into a hospital room, “but is this where I can find a big, badass jounin that thinks he’s invincible? You see, I have a hangnail and I’m afraid I’m just not capable of taking care of it by myself. I’m only a chunin, after all.”

 

“Ha, ha,” Kakashi whimpered from the bed. “I deserved that.” He waved the two fingers that were sticking out his cast at Iruka to invite him in. 

 

Iruka sat down beside the bed and showed Kakashi the grapes he’d brought with him as a gift. “I heard that a certain Leaf jounin dodged an arrow and got hit with a wall instead,” he said, enjoying himself hugely. “That takes talent.”

 

“It helps when the wall is being manipulated by an Earth jounin and the Leaf jounin already had a broken leg  _ and  _ a stab wound in his gut,” Kakashi rasped, squinting at Iruka balefully. Iruka made an apologetic face and popped a grape into Kakashi’s mouth. “I’ve been gone for two weeks,” Kakashi said after he had finished chewing. “How have you managed to survive so long without me?”

 

“I’m pretty sure that you’ve been the problem all along,” Iruka snarked as he took a grape for himself. “Nothing whatsoever has bothered me while you’ve been away. I think you have bad karma which counteracts my own, stunningly good karma.”

 

“Anybody could have told you that,” Kakashi said scornfully. “I’ve had bad karma since I was five years old.” 

 

“I don’t blame you for that,” Iruka responded. “I blame the Sandaime. A five year old had no business doing anything that affected his karma in the first place.” A kunai whistled through the air at that moment and embedded itself in the wall directly next to Kakashi’s left ear. He had jerked out of the way automatically and had saved himself by less than inch. 

 

“Are you going to blame the Sandaime for that?” Kakashi asked loudly, a shuriken appearing in his casted hand. Iruka was already moving though, and had engaged the black masked intruder that had come in through the window. He blocked out Kakashi’s shouts for help and focused on keeping the assassin away from the hospital bed. It was immediately clear that this was, in fact, an assassin. The black figure was moving in that slick, practiced way that spoke of intimate familiarity with death.

 

By the time a medic-nin and two other shinobi had burst through the door, Iruka had the intruder backed into a corner past the possibility of escape. The teacher’s hands flashed through a set of seals, and a jet of water poured from his mouth, the pressure hard enough to pin the assassin to the wall. Another few seals had the water forming ropes and binding the killer to the floor, unable to move and gasping for breath. Iruka leapt on top of him and bound him more firmly with a pair of chakra cuffs from his vest. He turned to Kakashi, barely breathing hard. “I think this is yours,” he quipped, wiping his hands on his pants to remove the excess water.

 

“I don’t want it!” Kakashi protested, but also looking immeasurably proud. 

 

The medic-nin moved to check Kakashi for injuries while the other two shinobi ran over to Iruka and yanked the assassin to his feet. He definitely looked worse for wear from the altercation, his clothes ripped from Iruka’s kunai and sopping wet. “Thanks, Iruka-sensei,” one of the Leaf shinobi said. “We’ll take this filth to Ibiki.”

 

“Tell him I'll be there to give him my report shortly,” Iruka instructed. “I imagine he’ll have questions.” He stepped to Kakashi’s bedside and addressed the medic-nin. “Everything okay here?”

 

The medic patted Kakashi’s knee under the blanket, and he glared back resentfully. “Hatake-san’s blood pressure is a little elevated, but there’s no additional damage. You can stay a few minutes more, Iruka-sensei, but then I’ll have to ask you to leave. He needs his rest in order to heal. Do I need to check you over as well?”

 

“No need,” Iruka said lightly. “He never touched me. I don’t think he was expecting resistance.”

 

“Well, I suppose if one has to have assassins, this is the best scenario one could ask for,” the medic said philosophically. “Five minutes, Iruka-sensei, then I’ll have to throw you out.”

 

“Understood,” Iruka said with a pale imitation of Gai’s thumb’s up before he sat back down at Kakashi’s bedside. When they were alone again, he commented dryly, “Well, that was exciting.”

 

“Iruka,” Kakashi growled, his one visible eye burning, “that was quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m never stepping in for you again, I promise. You are more than capable of handling any situation that comes your way.”

 

“Finally,” Iruka said, before bending over Kakashi and pressing his lips to the jounin’s.

 

“You taste like grapes,” Kakashi said dazedly when Iruka pulled away.

 

The teacher smiled. “So do you. Now go to sleep, and try not to get into any trouble while I’m away. I’d hate to have to rescue you again.”


End file.
